Stable Long Enough
by Karlmarks
Summary: Twenty years later...


Stable Long Enough  
By Karlmarks  
  
--------------------Notes--------------------  
I don't own the rights to Tenchi Muyo; they're property of Pioneer and AIC.   
What I'm doing is actually technically illegal, but hopefully the good-faith   
exception applies. The characters of Tenchi, Sasami, Aeka, Noboyuki,   
Katsuhito/Yosho, and Ryoko, which are used herein, are included under the Tenchi   
Muyo franchise, as is the existence and specifics of the Juraian royal family.   
The rest of the ideas and characters presented in this fic are "property"   
(though no copyright exists) of the author.  
  
Linguistically, I've picked a dialect and stuck to it. I don't speak   
Japanese, so writing this fic in that language is out. I don't really approve   
of blending Japanese with English in principle, so I've kept that out. I mean,   
you don't see me walking around throwing Spanish into my everyday conversation,   
do you? And, unlike most self-styled "otaku" who do that with Japanese, I   
actually speak el Español with a reasonable degree of fluency. So, the   
characters herein will speak in American English. Think of it as "the   
translated universe." The most effective subbing known to humankind, if you   
will. All time and distances converted to SI (no, that's not Self-Insertion)   
units, all slang converted to modern "'Merk'n" vernacular, and such.  
  
Continuity-wise, I'd say this fits just about in the TV universe. Let's say   
that Shin Tenchi -- ugh -- never happened, and the TV series ends right before   
the last five minutes or so of the final episode. Ryoko (and then Aeka and the   
others) don't return to Earth. In fact, Ryoko's last scene is drifting in space   
with severe internal injuries. I've employed a bit of poetic license by pegging   
Sasami at age twelve during the TV series and such, but nothing major is changed   
beyond what I just mentioned. One more note: this assumes the TV series took   
place in the year 1997.  
  
Try to keep an open mind, okay?  
--------------------End of notes--------------------  
  
  
  
Rain was an anomaly on Tevarleen, but a pleasant one. The climate control   
system incorporated an element of randomness that the majority of their tourist   
clientele found enjoyable. It added something of an illusion of a dynamic,   
changing planet and an air of local charm missing in many of the competing   
resort planets. Right now it was raining drenching sheets of water in the warm   
air that on Earth could be called "tropical."   
  
One of the many advantages to being born second, Sasami thought, was the   
vacation time. In fact, her life seemed to consist of nothing but vacation   
time. A few state dinners and diplomatic figurehead assignments here and there   
punctuated her leisurely existence, but on the whole there wasn't too much work   
involved in being Second Princess. Let Aeka have her kingdom and her prestige;   
Sasami had time for fun.   
  
"Nice day, eh?" Rayel commented from inside the suite. Sasami's world jumped   
back into focus: she could see the rain-spattered land stretch out for   
kilometers in front of her position on the balcony. Swarms of travelers drifted   
leisurely across the teal meadows strung with infrequent "native" souvenir shops   
manufactured by the Bureau of Tourism to add authenticity. Even when one knew,   
as she did, that the planet was actually a cutthroat, high-tech, capitalism-  
driven maelstrom of fierce competition for valuable offworld creds, it was still   
possible to enjoy the experience on a visceral level.  
  
"I rather like it," she replied simply. "Besides, it's our last day here.   
Try and enjoy yourself. You can go out on your own for a while, you know.   
Irini is perfectly capable." Rayel was only promoted to the Royal Corps last   
month, and, as was common in new recruits, he entertained fantasies of single-  
handedly saving Her Majesty from an assassin's strike or such. However, the   
fact that there hadn't been such an attempt in generations allowed for some   
degree of relaxation in the stringent discipline of the bodyguard service. If   
trouble looked at all possible, Lieutenant Irini Verden would have signaled the   
plainclothes officers spread throughout the hotel as she ran to her post; within   
a maximum of twenty seconds there would be as many officers massed in the suite,   
ready to defend Sasami with their lives. This extreme form of protection was   
necessitated by the fact that Tevarleen was a tourist planet: more people   
arrived and left every day on average, in fact, than anywhere else in the   
galaxy. It was impossible to know just who was where and when. Despite the   
near-total lack of political dissention within the Empire and centuries-long pax   
imperia, one had to concede at least a token amount of preparedness to appease   
the possibility of attack.  
  
But for now, for Sasami, there was rain, there was beauty, and there was   
time.  
  
  
  
Sasami woke with one word in her mind: "Tenchi." She repeated it once and   
lay silently in her bed. Outside, the primary of the binary-star system   
Tevarleen was a part of began to brighten the sky from its pale "night" as it   
rose over the horizon. That year with him, twenty-four years ago, had been,   
well, wonderful. She laughed softly as she remembered her childhood crush on   
him. Might as well look him up one of these days. She closed her eyes to catch   
a few last hours of sleep before the flight departed.  
  
  
***  
One year later  
  
  
Tenchi himself couldn't be considered quite as successful in life as Sasami.   
A worthless job in insurance claims assessment, and a decades-long string of   
failed relationships were the only trophies he'd acquired in life. Worse still   
were the many opportunities he'd had to regret how he handled the events of 24   
years ago. Last night, for instance. "God, you're just so...afraid! Afraid of   
commitment," she'd said. That was Rei. Had been Rei, rather. Years of failure,   
while technically somewhat of a learning experience, weren't so good for a   
person's self-esteem.   
  
If only he could have *acted* back then. Prince of Jurai or space pirate   
extraordinaire, either one with an incredible woman who was infatuated with him.   
But no, you couldn't even arrange to meet up with Ryoko after the attack on the   
Palace. Or even tell Aeka a few simple words. "I'll stay." That's all it   
would have taken. But you blew it. Oh well, maybe not, try again.  
  
He placed his hand on the RNA lock on his apartment door.   
safehomeopenauthorizedkey. A flurry of specific thoughts sent the correct   
impulses to the modified cells in his palm, producing the necessary strings of   
nucleic acids to open the door. All of this happened in roughly a third of a   
second. Stepping through the open door, he removed his coat and shoes before   
proceeding into what passed for a home. The Glorious New Economy had indeed   
been everything they'd said it would be, and so much more. Small corporations   
boomed. Computer skills, web design innovations, or, a little later, a degree   
in Resequencing, let the middle class push to the top of the socioeconomic   
stratum. Kids with ideas became millionaires. Middle-aged architects were   
pushed out of business by Creative Design Analytical Machine firms and couldn't   
afford their kids' college tuition. Everything they'd said it would be.  
  
Despite all that millenial-turn talk of "holovision" and the like, not much   
had changed in TV over the past two decades. Higher resolution, more channels,   
same pervasively commercialized programs. He fell asleep watching a subbed   
"Classic Film" of 90s Hollywood. The logo on the soap bar was that of Ventech,   
but Fight Club was otherwise intact, a rarity these days.   
  
  
  
The first thing Tenchi saw when he woke up was the message on his Pivar. The   
wrist-mounted computer made sounds of soft bliss as basked in the pleasure of a   
successfully received message. "Masaki Shrine. 10 o'clock tonight." Some damn   
joke. He hadn't talked to Amagasaki in, what was it? -- six years. Married.   
Lawyer for Venturesoft. Kids? No, that was Kenichi. Apparently Tenchi was   
missing the punch line. He resolved to ignore the message. And then the TV   
came on.   
  
"Masaki shrine. Midnight." It was the voice of the administrative comp of   
the apartment complex, nothing unusual. The odd part was the picture: flashes   
of black and white text seemed to form something...else. It was a vague image,   
the negative space left between the flashes compiled in his mind. A face.   
Sasami Jurai.   
  
  
  
He was running through the woods. Train delayed, time lost, had to get there   
on time! Branches whipped into his face, pushed back without thought. It was   
something of a dark and stormy night, actually. Dark, at least, and just enough   
rain to turn the ground to a slippery mud. But he had to get there on time.   
All the years of wishing, longing, regretting, all poured into his legs and   
lungs, all moving as fast as he could to keep him from missing the deadline,   
missing her. And there she was.  
  
"Why don't you come in out of the rain?" Sasami asked. She stood in the   
doorway of a small . . . spaceship, apparently, though it had nothing of Ryu-  
oh's elegance, Yagami's sweeping curves, or Ryo-ohki's knife-sharp appearance.   
It was, Sasami later mentioned, an atmospheric landing pod deployed from the   
orbiting cruiser. Tenchi stepped through the shimmering air that marked the   
pod's doorway and met her eyes. "There really wasn't anything to say" would   
have been the greatest falsehood since the Glove Don't Fit defense.   
  
"I, well -- I -- Sasami..." They embraced for a moment. "Well, what've you   
been up to?" God, that sounded stupid. She's been gone for twenty-four years,   
in *outer space*, princess of a *planet*, and you ask what she's been up to. "I   
mean, what's been happening in, well, the rest of the galaxy, I guess?" Oh,   
brilliant save. Fucking brilliant.  
  
"Well, let's see . . . We crushed the Loran Virtual Democracy in the Fourth   
Insurrection a few years ago, the Syndicate's back on the rise, the usual. Oh   
yeah--I'm sorry about the message; one of my agents got a little carried away   
with his whole spy-versus-spy fantasy world." She paused for a moment. "Oh, I   
suppose you meant about my sister. Well, she's married, assumed the mandate of   
heaven, all that."   
  
Well, what had he expected? Aeka, still wistfully remember Tenchi, had   
refused to marry, withdrawn from political life, and was pining away, regretting   
the mistakes of the past? And, for some reason, not going back to *talk to*   
him? Sometimes knowing doesn't make it hurt any less.   
  
They talked for an eternity. It had not been an uneventful twenty years for   
either of the two, and it was not an uneventful conversation, either. They   
discussed everything from galactic politics to the time they spent together to   
the possibility of an afterlife. Finally, Tenchi had brought up the subject of   
Ryoko. Her body had never been found, but it had been so long the only real   
possibility was the one neither wanted to speak, the one on the report that   
closed Ryoko's file in the databanks forever. Missing, presumed dead. And then   
there was Tenchi's family.  
  
  
It had been one of the last times democracy, courage, patriotism, and the   
proletariat had come together in a glorious union of political action.   
Specifically, terrorism. The Return had called for a return to the "good old   
days" when politics were simple, megacorporations were invincible strongholds   
against change, the traditional ways were somewhat intact, artisans had no   
shortage of employment, and Westernization was an alarmist myth. It was odd to   
see a reactionary group so violent, but old ways never really die. The bombing   
of '07 was the last convulsion in the death of violent revolution in Japan. It   
was a homemade job, most likely a basic plastic explosive. One part 98% nitric   
acid mixed with three parts sulfuric acid in an ice bath. Glycerin, skimmed   
from the tallow of rendered fat, added slowly and carefully. After adding   
sawdust to this nitroglycerin mixture, a plastic explosive is formed. One   
thousand and one handy household uses.  
  
Tenchi remembered the heat most of all. A wave of it hit him just as the   
fact that two of the subway cars were blossoming a beautiful orange registered   
in his mind. His face hit the ground before he realized he was diving for it,   
diving for cover. Cool and rough concrete pressed against him as the smooth   
expanding rush of fire turned into a swirling chaos of debris above his back.   
When reason reasserted itself, he raised his head to think. All around him,   
people were standing up, scattering. "Tsubasa!" "Is there nerve gas?" "Nerve   
gas! Get out!" "My leg!" Then the shouting began in earnest and individual   
voices were impossible to make out.   
  
It was strange really. He knew that there was no way Dad or Grandfather   
could have survived, but he looked anyway. He helped pull the rubble away, and   
treat the wounded long after it became clear that there wasn't going to be a   
grateful reunion, that the last time he would ever see his family had already   
happened. He went back home that day as if nothing had ever happened. He   
didn't leave his apartment for three days.   
  
  
  
"Oh..." Sasami sat silently beside him. A minute passed. Tenchi opened the   
door and looked outside. The sky was glowing a pale blue, but the sun had yet   
to come up.   
  
"Well," Tenchi said, pausing briefly before finishing, "this might sound   
stupid, but do you want to go watch the sunrise?"   
  
"Yeah. I do." Sasami rose to meet him at the door. They walked out into   
the dawn.   
  
  
  
They spent the next two days together. Behind the scenes, Juraian agents   
quietly set up Tenchi Masaki with a small stock portfolio, manipulated the   
market, and sold for a sum close to half a million dollars. Tenchi discovered   
that he didn't miss his job at all. And he and Sasami talked for hours at a   
time. Right now they were in the "Just Don't Give A Fuck Café," a venue that   
catered to 90s nostalgia. Apathy, commercialism, and individuality were the   
main themes.   
  
"Well, yeah, as far as we know, the Big Bang theory is correct," Sasami   
continued, "but what about before that? I mean, there had to have been   
something, right? Some kind of God or other? Matter can be neither created nor   
destroyed, so the protomatter had to come from somewhere." She drank the last   
of her orange liquid and waited. The orange tree had been wiped out as a   
species three years ago by a retrovirus engineered to impart resistance to a   
form of blight. Testing standards for such products had become a great deal   
more stringent after that.   
  
Tenchi swallowed the food he was chewing and spoke. "But that's what I've   
been saying! We don't know *anything* about "before that." Yeah, it could have   
been God, it could have been someone's dream made manifest, it could have been   
an interdimensional researcher's fuckup; we don't know! It could have easily   
been something in another universe that started ours."  
  
Sasami started talking as soon as he paused. "But that other universe had to   
come from somewhere. Somewhere along the line, at the beginning of all those   
universes, before anything else, there was someone. There had to be someone.   
Some god."  
  
"Another universe could have a totally different type of time," Tenchi   
countered. "Actually, theirs could have started ours, and ours could have   
started theirs. One big circle, you know? And it's all closing and opening at   
the same time, it's all going to end and begin the other, and then the other   
after that -- this doesn't make very much sense, I suppose," he finished   
apologetically. "I guess what I'm saying is that nothing has to be infinite, it   
can all just loop back into itself. Even the universe."  
  
Sasami wasn't eating anymore, just waiting for a chance to talk. "But the   
universe *is* infinite!" she exclaimed. "We know it started somewhere, it has a   
center, but for all practical purposes it has no edge. We've used FTL sensors,   
but even those have a limit to their speed, and we've been completely unable to   
discern any sort of edge, any drop-off point after which there is nothing. If   
there's no way to observe this Outside, no way to reach it, and it can't exert   
any effects on the universe, then it doesn't exist. You can't prove it, I   
suppose; there's no way to prove anything *doesn't* exist, but it--" she stopped   
as she realized that everyone in the restaurant was looking at their table.   
Sitting back down, she and Tenchi laughed for a moment before resuming their   
dinner.   
  
  
  
"Well, good night, Tenchi," Sasami said, standing in the doorway to the   
bedroom. She smiled and closed the door. Tenchi went back to the couch in the   
living room/entry and lay down. It was all happening now, all the parts coming   
together, everything in a circle, collapsing and expanding and all at once. She   
was part of his fantasies now, of course, but it was more than that. He wanted   
to talk to her, and when he was with her there was nothing else. The standard   
clichés didn't really apply at all. He'd been "in love" before, yes, but this   
was different. Beautiful, even. Tenchi closed his eyes, but it was hours before   
he could sleep.  
  
  
  
Seven hours later he awoke to a familiar buzzing sound. Alarm clocks had   
remained fairly unchanged over time, and his was no less grating than one of   
twenty years ago. After stumbling into the tiny bathroom, he threw his clothes   
off and turned the shower on. He gradually regained full consciousness as the   
water poured over him in a steady flow. The activities of the next few minutes   
were, for the first time in years, not the high point in his day.   
  
He emerged from the bathroom twenty-five minutes later to find Sasami waiting   
outside. "Oh! Sorry! I totally forgot you'd be up," Tenchi apologized. "Used   
to living alone, I guess," he continued. Hopefully that didn't sound as   
pathetic out loud as it did in his mind. She smiled lopsidedly at him before   
walking through the door.   
  
  
  
An hour later they were eating breakfast in the miniscule kitchen of Tenchi's   
apartment. Tenchi had prepared the meal, as was his strict duty as host under   
the new cultural system. "The meal" was cereal. Sasami had never tasted cereal   
before, though, and it was going over fairly well. "Well, like I was saying   
yesterday, we're sort of split up. It used to be more so -- more dramatic a   
divide, y'know, but even these days Earth is made up of separate countries with   
separate societies. It's kind of like having a bunch of different planets in a   
galaxy, only on a smaller scale. And this box comes from another country, with   
another culture, and another language. That's why I can't read the box, but you   
can with your translator implant." The box contained "Corn Flakes," an American   
cereal.   
  
Just then the television activated itself. Tenchi figured out why just   
before the picture flickered into focus. Modern TVs flickered because of the   
NLCD technology that had replaced the CRTs of yore. "Transmission from home,"   
Sasami whispered as an aside. A woman with stunning black hair occupied the   
center of the screen. She looked to be about Tenchi's age, though one never   
could tell. Hadn't Ryoko been close to 3000?  
  
"Time's short, and I can't see or hear you, so I'll make it brief. There's a   
'situation'" -- you could hear the quotes in her voice -- "in the Empire. We   
need you back on Jurai immediately. I'm orbiting in the Raziel; take the drop   
pod you came in back up for recovery. See you soon!" She smiled brightly for a   
second before the transmission ended.   
  
"Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you," Sasami said, turning to face Tenchi.   
"That's Tereya. My fiancé."   
  
  
  
--------------------Final Notes--------------------  
Bet you didn't see that one coming.  
  
Also, and this is important, WRITE TO ME. Tell me what you think. My email   
is markskarl@hotmail.com . Seriously, just take a few minutes to let me know   
how I can write better in the future, or just that people are reading my work.   
Bonus: If you can guess what song I was listening to when the idea for this fic   
struck me, you get . . . candy or something! Yes, I'm poor. Deal with it.   
Hint: the title.  
  
I know that not too much happens in this fic, and I apologize, but this is   
basically the exposition for a possible series of interconnected stories. I had   
to establish the new universe and all. Additionally, one person (Locke) said   
that maybe this fic should be classified as "lime" because of two brief comments   
about halfway through it. I didn't really understand why; tell me what you   
think of that if (preferably "when") you write to me. The names of new ships in   
my fics are taken from various Earth mythologies, by the way.   
  
If you really liked the fic, or any other fic (especially one of mine) tell   
your friends to read it (I'm not trying to insinuate anything here, but there IS   
a voting gallery at www.tmffa.com .) If you really hated it, tell your friends   
to avoid it, or just skip the fancy stuff and torch my house. Also, I may write   
more stories in this version of the Tenchi Muyo universe, if it sounds like   
people want to read them. Let me know.  
  
  
Thank you for reading.  



End file.
